Humour: Yes, cell phones do puncture eardrums (2/7/2013)

 

On this peaceful Sunday morning, I was relaxing with a beaker of piping hot tea after having pampered myself with a hearty English breakfast of eggs, bacons, kippers, marmalades and whatnot, when my cell phone, hitherto sitting as lifelessly as a pebble in the left breast pocket of my morning coat, suddenly sprang to life with unprecedented fervour and demanded every bit of my attention.  I’d be deceiving my public if I were to say that I was shaken out of a reverie by the shrill cry of my phone and in the excitement disturbed the table I was breakfasting on, thereby decanting its contents including those of the beaker of piping hot tea I was relaxing with, if you remember, on my crisply ironed trousers and neatly polished wing tips. Thankfully nothing of that sort occurred. This eventuality might have manifested itself and things would have taken a nasty turn in all probability had I not have pushed the first morsel of the day in my face before that cell phone of mine had started performing calisthenics in my pocket. After having had breakfasted, I was braced to face any challenge including those presented by ringing cell phones which would have startled lesser men with weaker hearts and no breakfast.

In an effort to answer the call, I slipped my right hand nonchalantly in the pocket containing the instrument and without looking at the screen punched the answer button and brought the device to rest against my right ear. There are some things which providence has already planned for you and would occur despite your best efforts to avert them. Had I read the contents the screen of my cell phone had to offer before planting it on my ear, I would have saved myself an undesirable agony of a torn eardrum brought upon by the blast of a thousand canons going at once.

The blast that I’ve alluded and blamed to have eroded my thus far functioning ear was the usual soft cooing of my aunt. A hunter in her younger days known for having shot at moving targets, blindfolded, with sniperesque dexterity, my aunt is a woman who possesses a towering personality and a reverberating voice. No matter how well I breakfast, my bean looses the repose it’s known for and all two hundred and six bones in my body crumple to dust in her presence or at the mere mention of her name.

To this day, I still am tending to my wounded ear that decodes, or rather reduces, every intelligible sound to a throbbing white noise. I won’t blame my aunt for my current state of being but that stupid cell phone which hyper-modulated my aunt’s already high-pitched voice and rendered my right ear useless. For me a cell phone is an invention in vain that has become the bane of my life.

 

 

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